


Scorched By The Flames Of My Anger

by ArsonUwU



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: An au based off of some art I found!, Angry Tommyinnit, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major character death but he comes back so I decided not to put that, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide Attempt, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), and when I say that I mean he can only get mad and sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsonUwU/pseuds/ArsonUwU
Summary: The lava was almost beckoning him to join it, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he slipped and fell into its burning embrace.It was, however, a surprise when he awoke with translucent skin and a missing puzzle of a memory-x-A Ghost Tommy AU based of a design by Uftopia on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/p/CIoSKs9lCW8/?igshid=90sfg2mpyo50)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 244





	Scorched By The Flames Of My Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyo welcome to the family! This contains mentions of suicide and other dark stuff but I’m sure if you’re clicking on this you can handle it <3

His gaze was permanently set on the pits of lava below him. Despite leaving the nether and doing tasks away from the fiery hellscape, his eyes were always clouded over with the thoughts of burning fluid. Perhaps that’s why his eyes were dimming in colour, he could have burned the bright blue away from staring into the scorching red for so long. Now, standing on the jagged logs he had set out to scream off of, Tommy felt that same scorching pit of lava almost mesmerising as he felt his body almost lean towards it. Tears he refused to let drop welled up in his eyes, his hands gripping his torn shirt as a need to release some sort of hatred. (He was unsure who he hated most at that moment; all of the so called friends who abandoned him, or himself?). Every time he came here to scream, he found he couldn’t, and as much as he wanted to release the tightness in his lungs with a fitful scream, he found he couldn’t.

Tubbo, Techno, Bad, EVERYONE had fucking left him out here in exile to fend for himself. His only company for the first agonising week was a ghost of an old friend who had emotionally manipulated him in his old life. He know he shouldn’t be mad at Ghostbur, he had no memory of any bad things he did and was as innocent as a young child— and acted like one as well. Tommy was almost Jealous, he wished he could forget every sad, shitty thing that had happened in his godforsaken life. The only person he had left as a living breathing friend was Dream, the person who had invited him to this server in the first place.

It was strange to consider the man that had pushed for his exile in the first place his closest ally, however after Tubbo hadn’t even bothered to show his face in his new home, the position of best friend was open. His eyes dropped a new level of tears only to be stubbornly replaced at the mere thought of Tubbo. For once in the past week he hadn’t had the damn compass on him, it had been placed in his ender chest where he knew only he would be able to grab it. He should probably go grab it, actually, he felt empty without it on his person.

With one shaky breath, he turned around on the unstable log to go back after yet another unsuccessful screaming match against the nether. Swiftly, his foot abruptly stood too close to the edge of the log, his strangely dull eyes wide as his back hit the log and his entire body was pulled down to the fiery, fiery depths below.

The first thing he knew when he emerged was that his skull hurt like hell, and the second thing he knew was, well, nothing. Memories felt miscellaneous in his skull, like a puzzle missing half the pieces, not even close to being solved. His fingers felt strangely numb for how hot his forehead felt, and he felt an unquenchable sense of fury deep in his ribs. His tongue tasted of ashes, and his entire body ached.  
Pushing himself, he startled at the startling orange glowing fingers tips, and the greyish tinge to his skin. That wasn’t how he normally looked, he normally was— his mind pushed as he felt some of the puzzle pieces fall together before Tommy could finally remember who he was and usually looked like.  
Well, this absolutely fucking sucked. Now Tommy knew something was off he couldn’t help but fixate on all the things currently wrong with him. Not that anything was ever right with him, he really was a fucking waste of space. Looking down at his translucent body, he wondered if he even took up space. Stumbling up (which he found himself significantly lighter as if he could just float away) he almost sprinted to a reflective surface to attempt to see just what the hell had changed. The closest thing he could think of off the top of his head were the waves from the beach party that nobody had bothered to show up— an anger of that day burning bright red in his skull. His feet left hissing grass wilt beneath him as he rushed down onto the sand towards the waves.

It was hard to see his reflection in the waves, but they were calm enough that he could recognise so key features that weren’t there before. A flame brightly lit sat above his head merged into his hair, bringing the only shades of colour on his grey hair and face. Dark tear tracks fell from his eyes that appeared to be one with his skin, and a quick rub to his face confirmed they were not going away. He startled at the feeling of brushing his cheek, finding that whilst his cheek felt the motion, his hand had stayed strikingly numb. He looked in startled apprehension as his fingers twitched and spammed without feeling or attempt to do so, and watched in his reflection as similar shivers ran up his body at random time intervals.

He was so startled in fact, that he almost didn’t notice a similarly translucent figure approach behind him. A violent spasm rocked up his spine as he felt the chilling of a hand upon his hot shoulder. The hand retreated immediately, a wince escaping the mouth of the floating figure in front of him.  
Tommy’s eyes queen with recognition of the man turned ghost as he felt the flames on top of his head brighten at the sight of him. He could only think of the terrible things he had done, and each time the manipulative bastard talked of being the bad guy.

However, the equally translucent ghost of Wilbur looked nothing like his main memories, a worried look on his childlike face as he held a soon to blister hand to his chest. Tommy could remember some instances of screaming at Ghostbur, but other than that he felt like he was missing ocean of information when it came to the small pond that pooled into the front of his mind.

“Tommy?” The ghost said, fear slurred with worry on his face for the whole world to see. It was nothing like the carefully sculpted faces of the Wilbur fresh in his mind. He couldn’t compare this man to the crazed lunatic that threatened to blow up a place that he knew of from the countless wars he fought in it.  
“Wilbur? What the fuck is going?” The words escaped his lips like smoke as he let the lava in his lungs fuel his words. The ghost looked even more concerned for being called Wilbur instead of Ghostbur, something Tommy only did when he was either lost in his head or extremely mad. Usually those two times would overlap.

“I saw your death message on the chat and I knew you couldn’t respawn again so I went to go check and— Tommy, I think you’re a ghost!” The brown haired man shouted quickly in a rush. The heat in Tommy’s lungs only increased at the worried look of, of— PITY on the opposing face.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock! What the fuck are you even doing here you scumbag, shouldn’t you be blowing up the nation you fucking made us fight in?” He screamed louder and louder, the sand at his feet melting into a bright red as Wilbur took a fearful step back. Confusion swallowed the older ghost as he barely understood what Tommy was referencing, perhaps something from his past that the others hadn’t told him yet?

The waves that sunk close to Tommy’s feet hissed as small amounts of steam hissed up beneath him. He didn’t understand why Wilbur was making that face and it was pissing him off. He racked and searched his brain until he uncovered a memory of yelling at the man for not being able to remember shit and being such a giggly, empty headed burden. Any feelings of guilt for bringing up his past was over shadowed by a sudden looming figure of a masked individual— Dream.

“Tommy, aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

**Author's Note:**

> So Tommy’s nerves are basically hella damaged which is why his fingers and toes can’t feel anything, and also why he has muscle spasms. Any other questions ask below!! :)


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